Nana's Scent
by Virodeil
Summary: For B2MeM 2012 Day 4. A scent, a colour, and Aragorn remembered what it had felt like to lead a carefree, innocent childhood, and what – and whom – he had lost to defend others'.


Title: Nana's Scent  
>Author: Eärillë<p>

Number: I22  
>Challenge: Colours: Lavender<p>

Summary:  
>A scent, a colour, and Aragorn remembered what it had felt like to lead a carefree, innocent childhood, and what – and whom – he had lost to defend others'.<p>

Rating: G  
>Warnings: first draft<p>

Characters: Aragorn, Gilrain  
>Genres: Family, Fluff, HurtComfort  
>Place 1: Eriador: Imladris (Rivendell)<br>Place 2: Eriador: palace at Fornost  
>Timeline 1: Third Age: before the Ring War<br>Timeline 2: Fourth Age: the establishment of the Reunited Realms  
>Word Count (in MS Word): 972<p>

Notes: Timeline 1 occurs when Gilrain was still alive, while Timeline 2 occurs when Aragorn had become the King of the Reunited Realms of Gondor and Arnor, having also married Arwen. (The author would like to apologise if she has mistaken the title; it is too long! Also, Arwen was away maintaining another part of the realm in this story, assisting her husband.) Each timeline is represented by a ficlet titled with the Roman-numeric equivalent of 1 and 2, respectively. It is styled in third person general point of view too, so the focus is slightly different from other stories in Rey-verse.

**Nana's Scent**

I.

"What that, Nana?" a four-year-old Estel asked, ogling what looked like a greyish shrub with clusters of pretty light blueish-purple delicate flowers. Free for the day from any work or duties, the mother and son were currently ambling along the narrow lanes in the special garden set aside for warm-climate flowers.

Gilrain smiled down at her lightly-bouncing son. "It is 'What is that,' not 'What that,' son. The twins brought the flower when they arrived a fortnight ago from their travels to the East. Aren't they pretty?" On Estel's beaming face and vigorous nod, she carefully separated and picked one flower from the nearest cluster. "I love the smell too. Would you like some? I'm sure neither Lord Elrond nor the twins would not mind."

The little boy scrunched up his nose. The smell was good, yes, but he was not a girl! He liked it when his mother rubbed the flower petals all over her collar, however, and even gave suggestions about arranging the flowers in her hair. It was fine when a girl smelled "purplish"! She promised him she would try to wear the scent everytime too if Lord Elrond or his sons would allow her at least a cluster of the flower every other day. But inwardly, Estel vowed to himself he would buy her oils with that scent when he had grown up, like he had seen the twins keep. (Something of their far-away mother to remind them of her, they had said when he had asked.)

II.

Aragorn inhaled the crisp morning air, still sleepy and tired from yesterday's tideous work. (Who knew ruling a double realm could be so taxing?) But in the next moment his eyes opened wide in surprise and disbelief; sleep and exhaustion vanished from his body and mind. He could never forget that particular fragrance anywhere.

Scrambling into a sitting position, he inspected every nook and cranny of his bedchamber with alert eye. The windows were open and autumn breeze as well as sunlight enlivened the room, but he could see no potted flowers there, nor on the dresser, the nightstands and even the hearth-rug. Besides, now that he sniffed the scent more carefully, it seemed to originate from very close by…

He looked down, and yelped.

While he had worn his dayware – minus his official robes – to bed, now he was wearing a somewhat-girlish shift with light blueish-purple colouring on top of all. And it smelled, too! Only now he realised that the fragrance had come from the clothing – all over it, in fact. (Why had he not been aware of it before?)

He looked up when his ears heard the faint crieking of the bedchamber's door being open. The twins were standing there, and his eyes met theirs. It was not easy to judge the current emotions and thoughts of an Elf, but he had trained himself to do just that since early childhood, and now the tideous efforts were paid. Elrond's sons looked torn between glee and solemnity – a most queer mixture, in Aragorn's opinion.

"A pleasant morning for you, brother," Elrohir greeted him.

"Do you like our latest gift for you?" Elladan piped up, smiling and winking.

So they had pranked him – again? But was it really a prank?

Uncaring of the spectacle, he shrugged off the shift and buried his face in it, deeply inhaling the fragrance he had unknowingly missed so much in the recent dark years. His mother had fulfilled her promise to him that long time ago, and he had also fulfilled his own, bringing her oils extracted from the same flower-plant from the Far East.

A dull ache grew in his chest, and he inhaled deeply once more. He had been away from her most of the time, but he had never forgotten this scent anywhere – would never. Still, he could do without the girlish shift, although admittedly he loved the soft colouring himself. (Perhaps he could persuade Arwen to wear clothes in that colour?) And on that, he let out a weak chuckle, muffled by the shift and also by the emotions clogging his throat.

The mattress on his either side dipped, and two pair of arms encircled him in a brotherly embrace. Then Elladan whispered in his right ear, "You had been getting too little sleep, and Arwen said your dreams were not peaceful. She wanted us to do something about it, and here we are with the shift. She travelled back home herself and died the shift for you, you know."

Kissing his ear like the ellon had done countless times in his childhood, Elrohir then piped up in the same manner, "You slept like a baby. It was quite a delight watching you sleep like that. Father recommended some tips about you to our beloved sister before he departed, apparently. Else I do not know how she knew that you love lavender so, since she confessed never asking you about that beforehand."

"Is that the name of the flower?" Aragorn asked, maintaining a level tone with great difficulty. The twins confirmed his guess, then excused themselves, saying they had needs to tend to before they would be back with breakfast for three. Left alone in his bedchamber, he did not know should he laugh or cry or the both of them, and that also made him realise the nature of the twins' peculiar look from earlier. Perhaps all bittersweet memories and events would garner such a mixture of feelings on the victim?

He did not know still, and did not care for now. Inhaling the scent once more, he lay back down on the bed and stared at the shift in his fist until his eyelids drooped once more, and he relived the warm, innocent happiness of his long-past childhood with his mother and the flower-plant named lavender.


End file.
